This week we’re writing to a picture prompt. I chose this one for my scene, which isn’t associated with any book I’m writing, have written but might write someday.

Through partially swollen eyelids he watched as the rising sun cast a cold, pale light over his partially naked body. Lazy cross patterns on and above the steel doors projected an eerie pattern on the stone floor where he lay.

A few feet outside the doors he couldn’t help but notice rocks cast at odd angles but at the same time, he noticed in a set pattern. From what he could discern it took on the appearance of an altar. But for what, or was it more for whom. Blinking to clear his vision, patterns of pale pink to dark red came into view on the largest of the stones.